Today (November 25th, 2023) sees the publication of the The Ultimate Listener’s Guide to the career of Bobby Darin. I want to take this opportunity to tell you a little about the book, and how it came to be.
Those of you who bought the 2nd edition, published back in 2018, will probably remember that I said quite clearly in that book that there wouldn’t be a 3rd edition. However, some things happened that meant it was sensible to go back on that promise. The first of these was covid. I spent the first lockdown making a video essay/documentary about early film. In the second lockdown, I started work on a sessionography for Bobby Darin. For those of you that don’t know, a sessionography compiles information about each recording session: time, place, musicians, songs recorded, their composers, the number assigned to the recording by the record label, how and when it was first released, and (in my case) where alternate takes etc can be found.
Many great musicians already have very detailed sessionographies completed. For example, Elvis Presley has one in a book called A Life in Music by Ernst Jorgensen, and there is also an indispensable website by Keith Flynn, with everything listed that you could possibly imagine. We know everything about Elvis’s recordings that we could possibly wish to know. Alas, the same isn’t true for Bobby. The new official website doesn’t even have a complete list of his albums.
There were previously two sessionographies of Bobby: one on the Praguefrank website, and the other by Jan-Jaap Been. I really want to take time out to thank them for their work. While those sessionographies are now somewhat out of date (in that they don’t include more recent releases), they were (and still are) huge achievements that have laid the groundwork for someone like me to come along and build on.
The problem with this endeavour for Bobby is that so much information is still not known – especially regarding musicians in some sessions, but also even dates of sessions are uncertain – but I have done everything I can to bring together everything we do know about Bobby’s recordings. There are still gaps, but I have been honest where we don’t know something, rather than make guesses. There’s a lot of misinformation online about Bobby, and I’d rather say we’re unsure of something rather than add to it. The session information in the new book looks something like the following – it is then followed by the kind of critiques and information that owners of a previous edition will already expect.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Kenneth Kelly Jr. and David Ortoleva for all the information they passed on to me regarding alternate takes that have been issued through the years, and for providing me with the audio of some of them.
So, when the session info was getting close to being finished, my plan was to issue it as a 100 page book that could sit on the shelf alongside the 2018 edition of the “Listener’s Guide.” And then something weird happened – unreleased Bobby recordings started appearing in the most unlikely of places, most notably various auction sites. There was an inexplicable flurry of them over a period of eighteen months or so. While they all remain unreleased for now, I was given access to them by the new owners for the purposes of this book, meaning I could add in analysis of music that not only have we not heard before, but also didn’t know existed! There are some significant (and historical) surprises among them, and I hope you will get to hear them in the not-to-distant future, but it was great to be able to include them in the book so that it is already up to date when they find their way out into the Bobby world. And so, bearing in mind the new musical material AND the sessionography AND it being the 50th anniversary of Bobby’s passing, the decision was made to re-release the book.
Another sample page:
The decision was made to include everything that Bobby recorded that has been included on audio-only releases (official and unofficial). So, for example, the duet with Judy Garland from The Judy Garland Show is included because it was released on the Judy Duets CD album. Some might be surprised to see the inclusion of the songs from the Seeing is Believing DVD, but just the audio did actually get its own release in a digital album back in 2006, and so those songs are included within the book (both in session information and critique/analysis). I have also included info on all of Bobby’s officially-unreleased audio recordings that we know of, such as the 1959 recording at the Hollywood Bowl, and radio recordings from 1960 and 1966. As stated earlier, I have gone into details about unreleased material when it was made available to me.
It is now a rather hefty tome – A4 size. 135 images. 540 pages. 225,000 words!! It’s been a long (and sometimes very trying) endeavour, particularly with technical proofing issues delaying the book’s release by about two months. All but two images from the previous edition have been retained, and some new ones added. The book is being published in hardback and paperback options. I recommend the hardback (although I get less royalties from it!), but Amazon have about a 4 week delay on dispatching that in the USA, hence why I have also done a paperback option. There are no hardback delays outside of the USA.
And so, at this point, I release this commemorative 50th anniversary edition of the book into the wild! Many thanks to everyone who helped me during the writing of this or the previous editions, especially Karin Grevelund, Matt Forbes (whose cover design is stunning), Alex Bird, and L. Vergara Herrero. I really hope you like it, and that you feel it does Bobby’s legacy justice.
In 2023, it’s difficult to remember life before YouTube. What started off as a relatively banal endeavour has, inadvertently, morphed into one of the greatest archives of music, television and film in the world. Forgotten performances have appeared on there by some of the greatest musicians and singers the world has seen, often from private archives. So here’s a look at some of Bobby’s greatest, and most obscure, TV performances available on the website that have never appeared commercially. The second part of this blog post will appear in a week or so!
The Midnight Special, 1973
We start at the end and work backwards, as that allows me to highlight first and foremost a new addition to YouTube. This weekend, the entire Midnight Special episode from March 16th 1973 appeared in wonderful quality. Many Darin fans are familiar with this performance through an “OK” version that has been on YouTube for years, but here it takes on a whole new life. This was Bobby’s penultimate performance recorded for television before his passing in December 1973. It contains a nice version of If I Were a Carpenter (although Bobby looks rather ill during it, seemingly holding on to the piano for support), and this is followed by Dream Lover and a medley of Splish Splash and Roll Over Beethoven. This might have been once of his last TV appearances, but it’s also one of his best. He sings and rocks with an abandon that is missing from 95% of his TV series, recorded around the same time. Bobby’s contribution starts at 7:51 in the following video.
The Bobby Darin Amusement Company, 1972
While The Bobby Darin Show series was released (kind of) on DVD about ten years ago, the Amusement Company series remains hidden away for the most part. Here’s an episode featuring Dionne Warwick. It’s in black and white for the first 25 minutes or so, and then the rest is in colour. What’s interesting is just how much better it is than the later series. Bobby is in better form, the arrangements are better, and it is more engagingly presented, complete with split screens etc.
The Irish Rovers, 1972
1972 was a good year for Bobby on TV. Here he is on the Canadian series hosted by The Irish Rovers, singing Beyond the Sea and his protest anthem Simple Song of Freedom.
The David Frost Show, 1972
Also from 1972 comes this wonderful performance on The David Frost Show, where we get to see him play harmonica, drums, and rock out on Splish Splash. It’s a first class, showstopping performance that displays Bobby’s on-stage magnetism in all its glory.
The Mike Douglas Show, 1970
During the summer of 1970, Bobby co-hosted The Mike Douglas Show for a week, which resulted in him singing a number of songs that he never returned to on TV and never recorded in the studio. He was also interviewed, and even entered into political discussions when the guests required it. Here we have a complete episode, spread over two videos. It includes Bobby singing And When I Die and If I Were a Carpenter, and speaking about his sojourn in Big Sur.
The Sounds of the Sixties, 1969
Bobby was great in the Kraft Music Hall series of TV specials that he was occasionally the star of. We have two clips from this one. Let’s start with Bobby duetting with Stevie Wonder on If I Were a Carpenter.
From the same TV show, we have this “mini-concert” of sorts. Sadly, the quality of the copy isn’t great, but it’s a delight, nonetheless. He begins with a rendition of Splish Splash and follows that with a performance of Honey, Take a Whiff on Me. It has recently come to light that Bobby attempted a studio recording of this song in late 1967, but only got as far as getting the backing track down, and never returned to record his vocal. And so this live performance is about as close as we can get to hearing what that studio version might have sounded like. Finally, there’s a dynamic (and possibly the best) TV version of Long Line Rider.
This is Tom Jones, 1969
In 1969, Bobby was in full “Bob Darin” mode, but not everything he wrote and performed during the period was a protest song. Here, on This is Tom Jones, he shows his humourous side, and reminds us that he didn’t always take himself too seriously.
Bobby Darin in London (recorded 1966, broadcast 1967)
Here we have Bobby fronting his own one man show on prime-time BBC TV. The soundtrack from the special was released on the album Something Special, available only in the UK. Here we have Bobby singing his blues number Funny What Love Can Do in a version very different to his studio recording.
From the same TV show comes this beautiful rendition of Once Upon a Time from Bobby’s In a Broadway Bag album.
That brings us to the end of part one of Bobby on YouTube. Part 2 will cover the period 1957-1965. However, I will leave you with discussion from The Mike Douglas Show, where Bobby butts heads with Mary Avara on the subject of film censorship. It’s just as fine a performance from Darin as any song in the main section of this post, putting his beliefs across with both firmness and politeness.
I recently uploaded four videos to YouTube. Each one is around half an hour in length, and contains rare Bobby Darin performances and some obscurities that are quietly hidden away on various releases. To compliment these videos, the following is a guide to the recordings and their sources. I have indicated when a track has been lifted from a particular CD. “Private source” indicates that it’s from my own collection and not commercially available either officially or on bootleg.
Volume 1
You Never Called (Stereo Version). Recorded on January 24, 1958. The mono version of this song, written by Woody Harris, was first issued over two years after it was recorded, on an album of leftovers entitled For Teenagers Only. The stereo version was issued several years later on a compilation album on the Clarion label. That stereo version was reissued in 2009 on the Collector’s Choice label’s CD of For Teenagers Only.
Distractions Part 1 (alternate take). There has always been some mystery as to why this song was called Part 1, as part 2 never appeared! The song is best known as being part of the Bob Darin album, Commitment. The alternate take heard here, though, mysteriously appeared on the Songs from Big Sur CD compilation. Was it released by mistake, or was it a different take used for one of the single releases back in 1969?
Wait by the Water (alternate take). Wait by The Water was recorded on January 13th, 1964. It was Bobby’s last recording session for eight months, partly due to arguments with his label at the time, Capitol. The track was released as a single. The song made its CD debut on the Capitol Collectors Series CD, but, at the time of that release, the stereo master was missing, and so this alternate take was used instead.
The Shadow of Your Smile (live). In the early 1990s, a Bobby Darin bootleg CD appeared called Rare Performances, featuring an edited set of recordings from a live show at Lake Tahoe in 1967. These were recorded from the soundboard, and the sound was not the best, but the show included some songs not included on other live albums. This arrangement of The Shadow of Your Smile was arranged by Roger Kellaway, and is different to the studio version. While the sound is still problematic, the version here is an improvement on that 1990s CD.
A Grand Night for Singing (demo). We now travel to some point in 1962 (date unknown), for a song featured inthe remake of State Fair that Bobby was part of. This recording was a try-out/demo version of a duet in the film, here with just piano accompaniment. The duet voice is that of Anita Gordon. This was issued a few years back as a bonus track on a digital release of the film’s soundtrack.
Drown in My Own Tears (TV performance). We go from A Grand Night for Singing to A Grand Night for SWINGING, a TV special starring Bobby that aired in 1968. No video has surfaced of the show, but we are lucky enough to have the audio of this song circulating amongst collectors. It is a very different performance to the one on the Bobby Darin Sings Ray Charles LP: much slower and much longer! It’s remarkable that Bobby was willing to risk something of this length on a prime-time TV special. Private source.
Sixteen Tons(TV performance). Bobby never recorded Sixteen Tons, but we do have a couple of TV performances of it. This one is from late 1967 or early 1968, from an appearance on The Jerry LewisShow. It’s another powerhouse performance, and a complete reinvention of the song. Bobby also included the number on his 1973 TV series The Bobby Darin Show, but it was edited out of the DVD release. Private source.
Queen of the Hop (take 9). Queen of the Hop was recorded at the same April 1958 session as Splish Splash. Here we have an alternate take, with the key difference being the prominent use of a bass singer in the arrangement. This was released on the bootleg disc Robert Cassotto: Rare, Rockin’ and Unreleased.
Here I’ll Stay (alternate version). This comes from the same Collector’s Choice CD as You Never Called. Here, the song is not just in stereo, but has a notably different arrangement compared to the finished version. The master take was recorded on October 30th, 1958. This may or may not be from the same date.
I Wish I Were In Love Again (live). In 1966, Bobby came to the UK to record a TV special for the BBC. This was aired in 1967, and a UK-only soundtrack LP was also released, entitled Something Special. This audio is taken from that album, which has never been officially re-released since the 1960s. This Rodgers & Hart song had also been recorded in the studio by Bobby, but went unreleased, and is now thought to have perished in a 1978 vault fire. (I mistakenly also included this song on volume 3 of these videos, for which I apologise!)
Volume 2
Hello Young Lovers (live). This track was recorded at the same November 1963 Las Vegas season as the The Curtain Falls Capitol CD. Matt Forbes informs me that these were overdubbed with some dialogue (not on this particularly track) and used on Here’s to the Veterans V-disc. Thanks, Matt. The source for this recording is the aforementioned Rare Performances bootleg disc.
A Sunday Kind of Love (studio recording). The recording of Bobby’s This is Darin 1959 album wasn’t particularly smooth, and a number of songs were recorded and discarded, including this one. It finally surfaced in 1976 on a record set entitled The Original Bobby Darin. The song has never been reissued and remains unavailable.
Weeping Willow (studio recording). This song remains officially unreleased. It was recorded in 1966 at the same session as Rainin. Very little is known about the song itself. In 2015, it was announced that it would finally be officially released on a forthcoming CD. Neither the song or the CD have materialised. Private source.
Love Look Away (alternate take). Most Bobby Darin fans know this song from a rather odd compilation called A&E Biography that brought together a strange mix of unissued and well-known songs. Love Look Away, recorded in early 1963 for the As Long as I’m Singing album (which was never issued) turned up on this disc. But, earlier, this alternate version had popped up unexpectedly and unannounced on a various artists compilation called Capitol Sings Rodgers & Hammerstein.
Leavin’ Trunk (live) This live recording of the Taj Mahal song is from 1969 (during the Bob Darin phase), and probably from a performance at The Troubadour. It has never been issued on an official disc or on a bootleg CD. Private source.
Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (studio version). Most fans know of Bobby’s live version of this number (in a medley with Lonesome Road) which is featured on Darin at the Copa and a couple of TV appearances. This early 1960 studio recording is very different, though. It was recorded at the same sessions as Bill Bailey and the Winners album, and, like both of those, uses only a jazz combo as backing. It was released as a single in 1964, and has never been officially reissued since.
Lovin’ You (live). Lovin’ You was one of the highlights of the If I Were a Carpenter album, and here it gets a live outing in the same show as The Shadow of Your Smile on volume 1. An attempt has been made to improve the sound.
Autumn Blues (studio recording). Another single side, this time an instrumental. It was released as the B-side of Beachcomber and, outside of Europe, hasn’t been available since. In Europe, it can be found on The 1956-62 Singles CD set on the Jackpot label.
Trouble in Mind (live). After the November 1963 Las Vegas season, Bobby stopped performing live for over two years. In 1966, he made his return, and this number was recorded at the Copa on March 31st. The performance is from a radio broadcast. Some of the show has circulated among collectors for years, but the entire unedited show exists in the Paley Center for Media. Private source.
Mack the Knife (alternate take 3). Mack the Knife changed everything for Bobby, and this is alternate take 3 from the studio session for the song. It’s slightly more laid-back, but it just needed a bit of tweaking before the hit version was taped. This is lifted from the Rare, Rockin’ and Unreleased bootleg CD mentioned earlier.
Volume 3
That Darn Cat (film soundtrack). This number was recorded as the theme song for Disney’s 1965 film. Sadly, Bobby was with Capitol at the time and so the song couldn’t be released at the time. It still hasn’t been officially released, and this version is lifted from the opening credits.
Splish Splash (alternate take 1). This is the very first recorded take of Splish Splash. Most of the ingredients are already in place, but it’s still rough around the edges, and needed some work. From the Rare, Rockin’ and Unreleased bootleg disc.
Come-a-Rum-Rum (live). Another live recording from the 1969 live season at The Troubadour. Sadly, I know absolutely nothing about this song! Private source.
Tall Story (single side). Another single side that has been notoriously hard to find. This one was written by Andre and Dory Previn, and was probably recorded at the same session as That’s How It Went, Alright, which was sung in Pepe, Bobby’s film debut. Warner have recently made Tall Story available digitally.
Schatten auf den wegen (German single). Bobby recorded this German version of Eighteen Yellow Roses exclusively for the German market. It was released in 1963, with the German version of You’re the Reason I’m Living on the B-side. The German translations have, so I’m told, no real relationship with the English words.
Ace in the Hole (live). This live version takes us back once again to November 1963. This is from the same source as Hello Young Lovers on volume 2, and was used for the Here’s to the Veterans V-disc. The original song would have had the verse included, but it was removed at some point.
All By Myself (TV performance). Bobby was always a great guest on TV, and he made over 200 such appearances in a span of just 17 years! This is from a spot on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1962, and may even be better than the studio take that appeared on Oh! Look at Me Now! Private source.
Mack the Knife (live). This live version from November 1963 was released officially on the A&E Biography CD mentioned earlier. Bobby fluffs the words, and equates forgetting the lyrics to his signature song to Moses forgetting The Ten Commandments. This alternate version tells us that more than one show was recorded during this season.
That Lucky Old Sun (alternate take 11). We go back to 1958 again for another outtake, this one of the faux-gospel That Lucky Old Sun. This is from the same studio date as Here I’ll Stay, which is featured on volume 1. This outtake is sourced from the Rare, Rockin’ and Unreleased bootleg.
I Wish I Were in Love Again – see volume 1!
Beyond the Sea (TV performance). This TV performance comes from The Bobby Darin Amusement Company series from 1972. It first appeared on the Seeing is Believing DVD. This audio however is, oddly, from a various-artist Reader’s Digest set called The Swinging Sound of Easy Listening. Quite how it landed up there is something of a mystery, as it hasn’t appeared on any other audio release before or since. The fade out is on the CD set, and not through tinkering by me.
Manhattan in My Heart(studio recording). This unreleased song from 1966 is quite possibly the most famous of the Darin unreleased recordings because it has been kicking around amongst collectors for a couple of decades, and also because it is one of the best ballad performances of Bobby’s career. As with Weepin’ Willow, a CD release was announced about seven years ago, but never came to pass.
Volume 4
Beach Ball, Sun Tan Baby, Powder Puff, Fifty Miles to Go(studio recordings by the City Surfers). The City Surfers were a short-lived surfing group featuring Bobby on drums and backing/harmony vocals, with Roger McGuinn and Frank Gari. To my knowledge these four sides haven’t been reissued since they first appeared back in 1963.
You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You (live, 1963). This is another alternate version from the November 1963 Las Vegas season. This one was released on a Here’s to the Veterans disc. Bobby had recorded the song in the studio in a very different arrangement earlier in the same year. It finally got issued in the late 1990s.
The Girl Who Stood Beside Me (live, 1966). Here we have a track from London in 1966, which was issued on the UK-only Something Special album. The noticeable difference between this and the studio version is that the bagpipes (or similar) are not present here, and we can here much more of Bobby’s lovely vocal.
Judy Don’t Be Moody (alternate take 2). This song (hardly Bobby’s best) became the B-side of Splish Splash. This is an alternate take lifted from the Rare, Rockin’ and Unreleased bootleg CD.
Bullmoose (alternate take). The single version of Bullmoose must surely be Bobby’s best rock ‘n’ roll recordings, but an alternate stereo take was used to open the Twist with Bobby Darin album. Sadly, it doesn’t have the same impact as the single version – both because of the performance and the unsatisfactory stereo sound.
I’ve Got the World on a String/Yesterday (live, 1966). This rather strange medley comes from a radio broadcast from the Copa in 1966, a season that saw Bobby introduce much new material to his live act, but which was not professionally recorded.
Let the Good Time Roll (TV, 1973). We close this final volume with a staggeringly good performance from Bobby’s 1973 TV series. Inexplicably, this was edited out of the series when it was released on DVD, despite being one of Bobby’s very best moments from his final years.
The following post is a transcript of a 1967 Bobby Darin interview that, it’s fair to say, is the most in-depth that we have yet come across. The audio was found in a corner of the internet by Alex Bird (and if you haven’t heard his own albums, check them out now!). Running for half an hour or so, much of it was distorted or playing at the wrong speed. Alex got everything running at the right speed, and then did a transcription of the interview. That was then passed to me, and I have edited it and added notes. Matt Forbes (and if you haven’t heard HIS albums, then you should check them out, too!) also helped with this process over the last few weeks.
In the interview, Bobby chats about his own recording career, what he thinks of the music scene at the time of the interview, and also tells us about the times when he was working as a demo singer – filling in a period of time in his early career that we knew nothing about. I have edited the interview, but made very few changes of note. I’ve removed repetitions etc, and also short sections that, for one reason or another, don’t make much sense (often because the audio was missing). In short, I’ve tried to make it work as piece of text rather than a piece of audio. Sections in bold are notes added by myself. Sections in blue are spoken by the interviewer, although I have tried my best to make this read more like an article than an interview, but that wasn’t always possible.
We hope you enjoy this rare and very revealing interview. The original audio is linked to at the bottom of the post.
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“It’s Got to Be Right:” Bobby Darin discusses his music career. (1967)
The Writing and Recording Process
In 1958, I sit down and write a song called Splish Splash, which is a novelty song with rhythm and blues chords and a simplistic approach piano wise – because I’m writing songs at the piano trying to use both hands. Now, it becomes a hit record and, the next thing I know, there’s a typification program happening. Then we come with Queen of the Hop, which is more or less in a similar bag. It’s got more of a New Orleans kind of flavor to it. And Early in the Morning is a real gospel, I Got a Woman kind of changes. And, of course, I Got a Woman is a derivation from church – the gospel rolling piano that Ray Charles was so famous for, along with slews of people who never made the pop scene.
Soon after, I get into what I liked to call at that time “a pretty chord sequence,” like, Dream Lover. Again, to me, it requires a different sound. First of all, I don’t have the same vocal placement. When I hear a certain kind of thing, when I go into a country bag, I’m into a country bag and it becomes a vocal placement. I couldn’t sing a country and western tune in the same approach that I would sing a pop standard ballad and/or a rhythm & blues tune. So, what I don’t realize at the time is all of it’s coming out at once and I’m trying to place it. I’m as guilty of the thing I resent most, which is categorization, but I can’t control it.
We dissolve and it’s 1964 or 1965, when I find myself in this position that I’m starting to force things. I’m trying to overlap, and place into specific bags, individual things that I’m doing. All of a sudden, it’s 1967, and I just have to do what I feel, as I feel it. So, I go in and I do a Dr. Doolittle, which I feel in a certain way.
Bobby singing Talk to the Animals on The Jerry Lewis Show, 1967
[Right] now, I’m in the process of putting together an album of what I call potpourri. There’s some rhythm and blues things in there, some country-oriented things, some bluegrass-oriented things, because I feel those things. And I’m doing them now for me. Again, I’m back into recording what I really dig and groove behind. Whether they are commercial successes, well, that’s a later factor. I would like them to be – no artist wants to go in and have a bomb – but that’s not a significant factor.
[Note by Shane Brown: The sessions that Bobby is talking about here were taking place in late 1967. The rhythm ‘n’ blues numbers he mentions are probably Easy Rider and Everywhere I Go, first issued on the Rhino boxed set in the 1990s. The country track is likely to refer to the likes of Tupelo, Mississippi Flash (unreleased), as well as I’m Going to Love You and Long Time Movin’, both of which straddle the country and folk genres, and both were, again, released on the 1995 Rhino box. The bluegrass song is Honey, Take a Whiff on Me. Many fans will be aware of Bobby’s performance of this on a 1969 TV special, but, until recently, there was no record of a studio version being made. However, we now know that the song was taped in the studio in 1967. It remains unreleased. It’s worth adding that Easy Rider, Everywhere I Go, I’m Going to Love You, and Long Time Movin’ were referred to as demo recordings when first released. This 1967 interview corrects that, with Bobby confirming these sessions were intended for an album project. Documentation seen recently also confirms that these were regular studio recordings.]
The 1995 Rhino Boxed Set
I used to try to plot what an audience wanted to hear. I don’t mean this to sound like a professional and a penance session, but, by the same token, these are facts that I’m expressing. You put me into a studio with five guys who are really nitty gritty funky blues players, and that’s where I go. That’s where I am. You put me into a Nashville studio with guys who have got that twang, [and] that’s where I go. You put me into a studio with 35 lush strings, and that’s where I go. So, the music really dictates to me rather than me dictating to the music. I can just say that it happens on an emotional level. It happens to me. I know I respond to it, and I know that people there respond to it. And I’m hoping now that what happens is I go in and I have that freedom, which is something that I’ve always had. Nobody’s ever squashed it, nobody’s ever tried to put it away, but, by the same token, I did it to myself. I started over-listening instead of doing.
We’re going in on Thursday to record a couple of tracks. We may not get them Thursday, [so] we’ll come back on Monday. That’s the thing I could never do before, and now I can. I couldn’t understand how it would take so long to do one or two tracks. Well look, the chemistry’s not working today. It’s Thursday [and] it’s rainy…the car broke down, the market’s off…I’ve got a headache. Instead of trying to account for all those factors, make them work for you. If they don’t work for you, just stop, go back, and do it again. Do it until it’s right. That’s really where it’s at. There’s nothing now that will ever come out that’s not right. Now I’ll stand behind it.
[Note by Shane Brown: What Bobby is saying here about not previously going into the studio to re-do songs he wasn’t happy with isn’t actually true. There are many occasions where Bobby was unhappy with his first attempt at a song, and so went back into the studio at a later date to try again. His willingness to do this goes back as far as the late 1950s and continued through the Capitol years and beyond.]
It started with the Carpenter album, there is nothing on that album that I won’t stand behind, nothing on the Inside Out album that I will not stand behind, nothing on the Dolittle album that I won’t stand behind. On the new project [there’s] a couple a things we don’t like. We hear them back and say the track is wrong, and the song is not for me. We just put a pass on those things that aren’t right, because my needs have changed. It’s got to be right. Now, if it sinks or if it swims, fine. But at least it’s right going out.
Bobby as Songwriter Demo Singer
I earned my living, for about a year and a half, recording songs for the artist to sing. I was a demo record singer in New York City, and you would get 10 or 15 bucks a side, depending on the publisher involved, or whether you knew the writer etc. And he would say “Now look. I got a song for Perry Como”. And he would give me the tune, and I’d learn it. We’d go in with a trio or quartet, and I’d sing “Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away.” Or “we got a song for Presley” (Bobby does Elvis Presley impression). Having that vocal flexibility, I was able to sometimes earn $100 dollars a week – just going in and singing songs that were going to be put onto acetates and mailed out to other artists. And nobody ever asked who it was singing
[Note by Shane Brown: This is new information. When looking through magazines and newspapers from 1956, Bobby seems to just disappear for about nine months or so from the late summer of 1956, reappearing again in the spring of 1957. He doesn’t appear to have been doing commercial recording sessions, TV work, or live appearances. Bearing in mind that he references Catch a Falling Star and Elvis here, it is almost certain that Bobby is talking about that “lost” period. It is known that some demo records by Bobby from the mid-1950s are still in existence, but the titles are unknown, and they haven’t been heard by the editors of this interview transcript.]
Bobby with Elvis Presley
As I say, the demo record business was quite a lucrative thing for me. And it was never for professional or commercial use, merely to present [the song] to the A&R man or the artist himself. It’s a great experience, certainly, because so many times I had I had a chance to get before a microphone in the studio before I was up to bat as Bobby Darin. So, it kinda worked.
[Note by Shane Brown: This would explain how and why Bobby’s recording and singing technique improved so much between the Decca recordings and the May 1957 sessions which ultimately led to his ATCO contract.]
Bobby on Influences and Writing
People that you really are strong for cannot help but influence you. I’m as influenced by Ray Charles and by a Frank Sinatra as I am by an Al Jolson, for that matter, or a Bing Crosby, because those people have made contributions. There’s no question about it that there’s some degree of innovation involved. Now, I think, that there is little left to innovate but the little that is left is what I’m after. I don’t know that anybody can consciously do it, I think you can sit with all the maps, all the records, all the charts in the world and try to…and it doesn’t happen.
You take Ray Charles, a classic case in point. Ray was an underground artist for a long time. I go back with Ray Charles in terms of being a fan to when he sounded like Nat Cole. Some people might stand up and say, “now, wait, he never sounded like Nat Cole”. I’m telling you he sounded like Nat Cole and worked with a trio and came out of Washington in the [early] days.
Ray was influenced by Nat. Now, all of a sudden, he got into a church kind of thing and now he was starting to do, you know, Ain’t that Enough or What’d I Say or I Got a Woman. Things that were new and fresh – not for the people who would listen to them and heard those things, but for a whole mass who had never heard them. Strangely enough, though, he was never as successful as he was at the moment he had the vision to see that a Hank Williams in his game was doing exactly what Ray was trying to do in his game, in the R‘n’B bag, and fuse the two. So, all of a sudden, he had I Can’t Stop Loving You and You Don’t Know Me. He took a basic Americana source, fused it with another basic Americana source and came up with something which everybody considers new, which, in reality, certainly is not new. There is nothing that is new. But the fusion tended to be, and was, innovative, at least to the degree that it was virtually unheard of in this country.
He was charted. For people to accept a rhythm and blues artist doing “their material” was a huge, huge step. Now, a Sinatra does it in a sophisticated, maybe not as stylized, approach, but [he] takes a song and makes it his own. I think that really determines what I mean by innovative – somebody that takes material and puts it into such a shape and remolds it to such a degree that you exclude it. [With] hundreds of other people, you’re precluded [from] recording that song in any similar fashion at all because the stamp is on it. And Ray does that. Jolson did it. Sinatra does it. Barbara Streisand does it. I think I had an opportunity, and a couple of times did it. I think a song like Mack the Knife and/or Bill Bailey.
Now, it’s more difficult to do it with songs that you do write. Again, you look to the track record [of] Ray Charles [and] the biggest songs he’s had are the songs that he did not write. He had a chance to place something of his own into someone else’s work, a combination factor.
Being a writer, I find that, when I write a tune, the person best suited to sing it is me, because I’ve written it, knowing all my foibles, all my shortcomings, as well as all of the flexibilities, you see? And strangely enough, I’ve had a lot of recordings on songs that I have written, but never a hit with someone else – which implies some sort of weakness in the material. There’s no question about it. Because I write a song like Things and I have a top ten record with it. Dean Martin records it, puts it on an album a couple of years later. It does not step out as a single. And Nancy Sinatra has it out now, but it’s not as a single record. Well, who can figure that? Or You’re the Reason I’m Living. I write it, I sing it, it’s a top three tune and and a lot of people record it, but it’s just placed into an album. So, there’s something generically wrong with my being able to write for other people.By the same token, I think I’m getting closer to being able to write for me as well as do other people’s songs with more of me in them, because the question in the final analysis is “who are you?” You say “I’m me,” but me happens to spread out in more than one or two directions and, therefore, is confusing. I think, for example, that I have let the record player down to some degree when he goes and buys an album in which out of 11 or 12 selections, he does not hear a similarity throughout the 11 or 12 cuts. And he scratches his head and wonders what is going on?
[Note by Shane Brown: His comments here are a bit perplexing, because most of his albums do, in fact, have a coherent style or sound to them. There are very few (outside of compilations of hits and leftovers like Things and Other Things or For Teenagers Only) where he includes country songs and jazz, for example. Sure, he combines country with big band on You’re the Reason I’m Living, but he does that throughout the album, not one style and then the other.]
When you buy Mathis, you buy one sound. When you buy Sinatra, virtually, you buy one sound. When you buy Ray Charles virtually you buy one sound. Well, when you buy BD, you buy a potpourri of things.
Bobby on Being Pigeonholed
I am never bored in a recording studio. I don’t think the people who buy my product are ever bored by the similarity or the sameness of the sound. I’m always experimenting, which is, at points, a hang up, at other points a great advantage. I did an album called Earthy on Capitol, several years ago, which was played for the true folknicks. They asked who it was. Because they dug it. I used natural skin players, the gut string players. The guys who had played those things all their life, the natural pickers. So that the only thing that wasn’t authentic was “Bobby Darin never got on a freight train and he wears a suit and tie.”
I felt bad about that until I realized that’s what they did to Bobby Dylan after he electrified his guitar. So to be good and poor is all right. To be good and successful somehow or other, you’re out, like it or lump it. And I think it’s a shame that that can happen to a Bob Dylan, etc., not that his popularity has waned. I think it’s reached the mass, which is where it belongs. When you’re saying something good. I’m now referring to Bob Dylan and Joan Baez and Judy Collins. And, if being heard by the mass precludes it being an underground art object any longer, well, I’m sorry about that. I was never in any of those categories, so I don’t have to personally feel put down. But, to me, it’s sad that an individual has to be bagged and remain there by any number of his peers. That’s kind of a shame.
Now, what happens is that people come to see a show or performance that I give knowing that they’re going to see a good cross-section of all of the things that have been going on, that I’ve been doing for years. I mean, I used to go out and do Canaan’s Land, an old folk standard spiritual kind of thing, and get 650 out of 1000 rednecks up on their feet with a deafening applause. It got them all together. I do Work Song, which, certainly, it’s got to make you think, since it’s a song about a guy that commits a crime. And they would crack in a nightclub – in that place where you’re supposed to only do songs like My Funny Valentine and I Get Along Without You Very Well, and so forth. And I made them respond to that and I still make them respond to it. And I constantly change the songs involved. But the various approaches can’t change. Otherwise, I could not get up and do the hour and 10 minutes that I do of any one given kind of music. You know, I close with with a medley of Respect, What’d I Say, and Got My Mojo Working. So, I mean, it’s lunacy. And, before that, I’ve done Drown in My Own Tears and Talk to the Animals, Don’t Rain on my Parade and Carpenter.
Bobby singing Work Song on The Bobby Darin Amusement Company, 1972
So, the people who buy albums, I think more or less want to buy a given sound, a given set of similarities. In a club, they want to be entertained. To bridge that gap is a little more difficult than [that], it requires a Superman.
I started to say before that I at least find people now saying, “Gee, I’m glad that you do all of those things. I’d rather have you do all of those things than just be locked into a particular kind of thing.” Because to me, the song is the essence. Songs [that are] not good, I don’t care who does it. Doesn’t mean a thing. A song better be good. And that’s pretty much where it’s at. And those people who think that their particular styles and/or an arrangement are selling them are, I think, short lived. They better be able to go after and find the song constantly and/or perform the song. They must have the material.
Bobby on his first hits
(Interviewer) Back in 1958 when you did Splish Splash , where was your head then? What were you after? What were your goals at that point, when you started to really record professionally?
I wanted a hit record so bad I could taste it.
I don’t think I have told this to any anybody more than an intimate friend or two, but I don’t mind talking about it now. I had a rather severe case of psoriasis, which is a kind of a rash that breaks out on your hands. That’s usually triggered by some emotional disturbances. And I was being treated by a marvelous dermatologist in New York, and he would give me these ultraviolet treatments and cream. And after a long time, part of his treatment was to sit and discuss things. The treatment would only take 10 minutes. We’d shoot the breeze for 15 or 20. And one day he said to me, “when you have your first hit record, all this is going to go away.” Now, whether he planted that, or whether that was a fact that he had picked up on as a result of conversation, I don’t know. But I had recorded Splish Splash on a Monday, it released on a Thursday by the following Monday, we had sold 50,000 records, and it was just breaking all over the place. And by the following Thursday, my rash disappeared. You know, people out there could sit and laugh, and say “That’s funny.” That’s exactly what happened.
[Note by Shane Brown. This isn’t exactly how it happened. Splish Splash wasn’t released until five weeks after it had been recorded. It was recorded on April 10, 1958, and released on May 19th.]
So, I had such limited views, direction, such a narrow beam of light that I was looking through and traveling on, that the first hit record was an immediate. Then it was OK, now I’ve got to get the second one and the third one, the fourth one, and when I went in to do the That’s All album which had Mack the Knife in it, that was clearly and simply designed to show some people that I could do something else other than this rock and roll thing. Now, if somebody wants to get super analytical, they can say that’s because you were putting down the rock and roll thing. I don’t deny it. I was. But without knowing it. However, when they wanted to put Mack the Knife out as a single, I argued. I said, “don’t do that. You’ll hurt everything I’ve got going,” because, to me, I was like a man running on a treadmill and going nowhere. Inside I wasn’t going anyplace at all. I was starting to become the celebrity that I had wanted to become all my life.
Now, my attitude is very simple. I must do what artistically pleases me, and not worry about [what happens later].
And when you ask where was my head at in Splish Splash, that’s what sounded to me like it would be a hit record, and I went and did it. And Queen of the Hop sounded like it would be a hit record, and Dream Lover sounded like it would be a hit record…
(Interviewer) While we’re on Dream Lover, I want to point out that, to me, that stands out so far above [other pop hits]. I think it’s an excellent record from that period. Could you tell me a little something about the composition of that and the recording just for the heck of it? It was a very good record. I think it still is.
I had just discovered the C, A minor, F G seventh changes on the piano, and I stretched them out. And I liked that space that I left in there. And I don’t know why, because, as I say, I have no theory to base it on. And I did, “Every night, I hope and pray a dream lover…” And it just flowed because, usually, all of the songs that I’ve written that are hits have flowed out just like that. Whether I’m playing guitar and writing and/or piano and writing it, it just happens. That’s one of those cases in points. Splish Splash did as well. Then, to go in and record. I felt that should have some voices and some strings. So that was a little bigger date than I’d been used to doing. But, we did 32 takes on the song because we couldn’t get, in that particular afternoon we couldn’t get everybody to gel.
Bobby singing Dream Lover on The Ed Sullivan Show, May 31, 1959.
When I listen to the record today, I’m flattered that you say you think that out of that period, that was a good selection and I think it was a well-produced record…overproduced for today’s market. I think it’s a much more simple market today, put out a simple song with a simple idea that everybody could relate to. Again, though, I was going in to write for some people. I can’t say that I emotionally was divorced from looking for that love of my life, that would make me happy, and that’s what Dream Lover is all about. You’re the Reason I’m Living comes from it. But it comes from a definite need. An emotional need. And I think a thing like 18 Yellow Roses is a definite emotional need expressed in song.
Then I got a case of the cutes. And I started to write what I thought would sound like an emotional need, and things like Be Mad Little Girl – things that are so obscure and nobody even knows them, which is just as well. Now I’m back into writing things that I feel that I can relate to totally. And we’ll see what happens from there.
Bobby singing Be Mad Little Girl.
Bobby on the 1960s Music Scene
(Interviewer) I’d like to ask you, what do you think about the contemporary music scene now? What’s happening? Do you find it as exciting as I do and as everybody else seems to?
There is so much good music happening. So much. I mean, stimulating songs coming from stimulated songwriters being performed by stimulated artists that it really is a golden time. If you’ve got a capsule, a period of music, you may as well take the last couple or three years and really lock it up right there.
When you have a Lennon/McCartney combination, you have a John Sebastian, you have a John Phillips, Randy Newman, a Bob Dylan. You’re not talking about any lightweights, pal. And a Leslie Bricusse is the same, you know, coming into the same time era. You’re talking about giant strides forward musically, even though they are based on more simplistic ideas. They’re simplistic with involvement, simplistic with commitment.
True, there is nothing new, but the [key thing is the] way that today’s music is being presented. You take an Aretha Franklin. What a giant, what an absolute giant this girl is. Diana Ross and the Supremes, the entire Motown operation. Dylan, of course, has to be put very, very high on the list of major contributors. The Beatles. You know, somebody once said about Irving Berlin, they said, “well, outside of Irving Berlin, who’s the best songwriter?” Because it’s automatic, you know? Irving Berlin has contributed that much. Well, [now it’s] “outside of Lennon and McCartney,” because they have contributed [so much] in their short three or four years of success that they have to be separately categorized, separately positioned. They’re the triple A.
[Interviewer asks about how contemporary songwriters stand up to the likes of Rodgers and Hart.]
I think that if anybody wants to stack them up against Rodgers and Hart, that there’s a basic failing someplace. I think most people have a tendency to fondle yesterday and embrace it to the point of it being ludicrous. You know, I don’t want to make that comparison between Lennon and McCartney because I don’t think there is one to make. I think Rodgers and Hart served, and will continue to serve, a need on the part of the music appreciated by the music listener. Lennon and McCartney do just as much to serve a need on the part of the music listener and therefore the comparison ends where you say they write songs. There’s no need to compare them any more, so that there is a need to compare Woody Guthrie with Bobby Dylan. Now, the fact that there’s a bag to place Woody Guthrie and a bag to place Bobby Dylan in, that’s a shame that there has to be a bag to place them in. But if they’re right and they’re saying strong things, then that’s where it’s at for me, at least.
The following is an extract from “Bobby Darin: Directions. A Listener’s Guide.
Much attention has been paid over the years to the session in April 1958 which produced Splish Splash and Queen of the Hop, Bobby Darin’s breakthrough records. However, this session from three months earlier is just as important in that it shows a significant improvement over what had gone before, with Bobby sounding far more assured and confident and finding his “own voice” for probably the first time. None of the songs were released as singles, with two appearing on the Bobby Darin album later in the year, and the other two held back until the For Teenagers Only LP in 1960. However, that is relatively unimportant, for this is the session that gave Bobby the springboard to create Splish Splash.
Brand New House was a Bobby Darin-Woody Harris original, and the change in the arrangements and vocal quality since the previous session is startling. The sound has morphed slightly into a cross between rock ‘n’ roll and Ray Charles’s brand of rhythm ‘n’ blues. The beat is more prominent, the brass adds a depth and fullness to the sound, and Bobby’s voice is rawer than before. Some of the mannerisms heard on Splish Splash are here for the first time, too. This is no masterpiece, and there are times when it is quite clear that Darin is struggling to complete phrases in one breath (which may have been lack of preparation or due to health problems), but this is so much more vibrant than anything he had recorded before. It sounds like a different singer entirely. For a completely different take on the same song, take a listen to Otis Spann’s version, featuring Muddy Waters on guitar.
You Never Called also shows significant signs of improvement, this time in Darin’s ballad singing. This rock ‘n’ roll ballad again finds his voice stronger and more assured than on previous songs of this type, and it also finds him more at home in this style. In his earlier rock ‘n’ roll ballads, Bobby was holding on to the last note of each line, but here that doesn’t happen. Instead, he cuts the note off quickly (though not too quickly), giving the number more energy.
All the Way Home, co-written by Otis Blackwell who had penned both All Shook Up and Don’t Be Cruel, finds Bobby back in upbeat territory in a number that mixes an Elvis-like song with a Ray Charles-like arrangement. Darin seemed to be gaining more and more in confidence as the session progressed, and he yelps and growls and groans his way through the song. Finally, in his fifth recording session, this is recognisably Bobby Darin.
The last song, Actions Speak Louder than Words, is another mid-tempo ballad, and deserves to be better known. This is far better than some of the rock ‘n’ roll songs recorded immediately after Splish Splash, and should have had a single release, backed with either Brand New House or All the Way Home. Like some of the other songs from this session, the material was better than Bobby was used to, with the number co-written by Berry Gordy Jr., who would go on to become the founder of Motown records, the label that Bobby would join in 1970.
Quite why none of these songs were released as a single is something of a mystery, as the public would have noticed a vast improvement on the singer’s previous efforts, and it is quite possible that any single would have at least made a dent in the charts. As it is, these songs remain relatively unknown to this day, and that is a shame as there is much to enjoy in these four sides that give us the first opportunity to hear the real Bobby Darin. After recording twenty songs over a period of nearly two years, Bobby had finally found his own identity.
Much of the renewed confidence in the studio may well have been down to the amount of live performances that Bobby had been giving over the previous six months or so. However, the amount of live performances temporarily slowed down at the beginning of 1958, and little information seems to exist about Darin’s activities at this time other than that he was part of a rock ‘n’ roll revue in February 1958, performing on the same bill as Danny & The Juniors and Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. There are also no known TV performances during the first months of 1958. The reason for this apparent slow-down in live work is unknown.
I’ve had a few people approach me on Twitter and Facebook recently, asking me a little more about my book on Bobby, and also about Bobby in general. Bearing that in mind, I thought that, rather than including an excerpt of my book here that centres on an album or a concert, instead I would reprint some of the introduction. It gives some basic information and discussion about Bobby’s career and musical legacy and then goes on to talk about the content of the book. Please be aware this is only a series of excerpts (and doesn’t include the opening of the introduction), and so jumps around a little bit! It’s also rather nice to be able to illustrate the text with some YouTube videos of the music I’m talking about! Anyway, enjoy!
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…And so what are we to make of the legacy that Bobby Darin left behind? It is one that includes rock ‘n’ roll, country, swing, jazz, show tunes, folk, easy listening, spirituals, ballads, protest songs, blues, and even film scores. During his lifetime he was accused of switching styles because he wanted to jump on bandwagons, whereas in recent years he has been viewed as more of a musical chameleon.
The bandwagon-jumping accusation isn’t altogether untrue. After all, it is difficult to imagine Bobby writing and recording the song You’re the Reason I’m Living in the way he did had Ray Charles not recently had huge success with his Modern Sounds in Country and Western LP. But bandwagon-jumping suggests the recording was made simply for financial gain, whereas, considering Bobby’s love of Charles, it was just as likely to have been done to emulate, and pay tribute to, his idol. In reality, it appears that if Bobby heard something and liked it, he wanted to try it for himself. But it was always done Darin’s way, and was never a straight copy of a style or a sound, and that sets him apart.
I have never been happy with people calling Bobby Darin a “musical chameleon.” For me, this has a negative connotation – albeit perhaps an unintended one. I’m no expert on chameleons but, while they can change their colour for any number of reasons, we generally associate it with a kind of camouflage, an attempt to fit in to its surroundings so as not to be noticed or found out. When we transfer this idea on to Darin, it then makes him out to be someone who was just changing his style and genre in order to fit in to (or cash in on) the current music scene – which brings us back to the whole idea of jumping on a bandwagon.
We first come across this idea when he recorded the That’s All album back in late 1958, with the suggestion made that he was somehow trying to be Frank Sinatra. And yet, anyone who knows the music of both men will know that there are actually huge stylistic differences between their arrangements and vocal styles within the big band genre. I don’t know of a single Sinatra arrangement that has the same sound and feel as Mack the Knife or Clementine. Sinatra’s orchestrations swing in a very different way entirely. In fact, perhaps the nearest Sinatra got to that sound was his version of Old MacDonald – recorded after the aforementioned tracks were released, not before – and even then it’s not the exactly the same, despite the slow build-up in sound and the modulations in key with each verse. And it wasn’t often that Sinatra was as downright brash as the arrangements used for Softly as in a Morning Sunrise or Some of these Days. Maybe on I’m Gonna Live Till I Die – but this was the exception, not the rule. Darin’s vocal approach was far different, too – he didn’t sing from a jazz background as Sinatra did, but he brought rock ‘n’ roll vocal stylings to the big band sound. I’m not saying this to knock Sinatra in any way – I adore his music – but my point is just that Darin wasn’t somehow imitating Sinatra, he was doing it his way.
If anything, Darin’s swing sound was more like Sammy Davis Jr’s than Sinatra’s. Check out Davis’s version of There Is a Tavern in a Town, for example, and you will see what I mean. He got much of his material from the same place as Davis too: the current Broadway scene. Whereas Sinatra was normally reaching back to shows of the 1930s and 1940s, Darin and Davis were often culling material from Broadway in the 1960s and, with Darin, the current Hollywood scene too. Hence the albums From Hello Dolly to Goodbye Charlie, In a Broadway Bag, Bobby Darin sings the Shadow of your Smile and individual tracks such as What Kind of Fool am I and If I Ruled the World. Despite these connections with Davis, Darin wasn’t imitating him either, although both crossed over into rock ‘n’ roll material and rhythm ‘n’ blues.
Darin’s last album to be recorded for ATCO was his tribute to Ray Charles, and it is true to say it retains much of the Ray Charles sound. However, even this wasn’t a straightforward album. Bobby was taking risks here. What other pop singer of the time would spend over six minutes on I Got a Woman (and, in a late-60s TV appearance, over seven minutes on Drown in My Own Tears)? Most pop singers of the early 1960s were rarely recording songs over two and a half minutes. Darin’s I Got a Woman doesn’t actually work – it goes on for far too long – but at least he was willing to take risks or, to be less kind in this instance, be self-indulgent. Darin was always his own man and recorded what he wanted. Elvis Presley’s manager, Colonel Parker, would have run a mile from such an artist. What this ultimately meant was that Bobby was often the only one responsible for the success or failure of an album.
Bobby is again accused of jumping onto bandwagons when he released his folk album, Earthy!. And yet, once more, an actual examination of the LP finds that this wasn’t any normal folk album but an ambitious, daring (from a commercial point of view) collection of folk songs from around the world. What’s more, it is also one of his best albums. In this case, the risk, ambition, and vision paid off artistically. While Peter, Paul and Mary (who he is often accused of copying) were recording songs by Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan, Darin was adapting folk music from across the globe along with a handful of new(ish) compositions in the same style. The musicianship here is incredible and yet the album did very little business commercially.
Darin’s next folk album, Golden Folk Hits, was a simple attempt to hone in on the Peter, Paul and Mary sound, but he had gone down the artistic route before turning to the commercial one. Then there have been the comparisons with Bob Dylan when we come to the late 1960s and Bobby’s creation of his own label to record his own songs of social commentary. And yet, once again, there is no foundation in these comparisons, as what Bobby was writing and recording often had very little to do with what other protest singers were doing at the time.
They may have been largely ignored on release but, like Earthy!, the Direction albums have now gained cult status, particularly in the UK and Europe. The first, Bobby Darin born Walden Robert Cassotto, contained songs that were musically simplistic, but the lyrics were what mattered. There is some wonderful wordplay in The Proper Gander, while Sunday lures the listener in before issuing a damning indictment on organised religion. Commitment, the second album, is more interesting musically, and is clearly a more varied selection of songs, and Bobby manages to tie together a beautiful melody with a powerful political comment as in Sausalito. Elsewhere he isn’t protesting at all, but there is great wordplay and musicality in Water Color Canvas, and a dry self-deprecating humour in Distractions (Part 1).
His Motown years were largely disappointing, and yet the 1971 album recorded in Las Vegas (released in 1987) is probably the best live album of his career. Yes, he is relying largely on contemporary covers, but look at what he does with them! People say that Las Vegas saps a singer’s artistic vision – but not Darin’s. While Elvis’s idea of a Beatles medley was a bland re-tread of Yesterday with the refrain of Hey Jude tagged on the end, Darin came up with a multi-song, almost rhapsodic, masterpiece. And, once again, ambition shone through, as in the extended version of James Taylor’s Fire and Rain.
There wasn’t much musical ambition in the Motown studio recordings, with Bobby trying to adhere to the Motown sound to start with before ultimately turning into a bland balladeer with orchestrations that often should have been torn up and thrown out long before they reached the studio. And there wasn’t much ambition on his disappointing TV series either – and yet Darin was still doing what he wanted when he could. What other variety show gave over a few minutes each week to a chess game? Again, this was Darin being self-indulgent and ambitious and this time it didn’t work – but he hadn’t given up despite seemingly losing his way musically in his final years (although appearances on The David Frost Show and Midnight Special showed exactly what he was capable of when he put his mind to it – as did the concert-style final show of his TV series).
No artist leaves a perfect musical legacy. Bobby Darin took risks, and sometimes they didn’t work or he over-estimated his audience. And yet the quality of his recordings is far more consistent than Elvis, Sammy Davis Jr, or even (arguably) Sinatra, who went through several periods of artistic doldrums within his studio work in the late 1960s through to the late 1970s. But one thing I am sure of is that Bobby Darin had no interest in being a chameleon, and changing his genre and style just to fit in or, worse, cash-in. If he changed his style, it was always because he thought he could bring something different to it, that he could add something, that he could move it forward, that he could push the boundaries.
It is not an exaggeration to say that he never made the same album twice. For example, Bobby made numerous albums of standards, or songs in that style, and yet no two of them have exactly the same feel or draw their repertoire from the same place. This is Darin has less rock ‘n’ roll phrasing and edge than That’s All. Love Swings tells the story of a love affair, whereas Two of a Kind is a duets album using mostly novelty songs as the basis for its repertoire. Winners is a wonderful album using just a jazz combo, but Oh! Look at Me Now sees Bobby singing a dozen of the most popular and often-sung standards for the first time in a big band setting. And so it goes on.
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Bobby Darin: Directions, named after the Direction label Bobby founded in 1968, is not a straightforward biography, and is largely not interested in retelling Bobby Darin’s life story. For any reader wanting that, there are fine biographies by David Evanier, Al DiOrio, and Bobby’s son, Dodd Darin (among others). These all tell their stories in different ways and with a different emphasis, and all are recommended. There is also the book That’s All: Bobby Darin on Record, Stage and Screen by Jeff Bleiel, which is a highly informative and remarkably readable biography of Darin as told through his career rather than his personal life.
Alongside my own commentary on the music runs the parallel story of how Bobby’s music, personality and career were discussed, reviewed and reported in the newspapers, magazines and trade journals of the day. In this new edition, there are excerpts and comments from over 550 different reviews and articles, ranging from trade publications such as Variety to major newspapers such as the New York Times to movie and music fan magazines – even Woman’s Weekly! They give us a fascinating picture of Bobby’s career as it happened, from how his music was received to how his comments were skewed and misquoted and dogged him in the media for months and years afterwards.
The ultimate aim here, of course, is to bring the focus back to Bobby Darin’s huge musical legacy. By offering a new commentary on the recordings themselves, andby telling the story of Darin’s reception in the media, I hope that I have created a book that is of interest and use both to the long-time fan and those who are only just beginning to investigate the wonderful work that Bobby Darin left behind. If reading the following pages makes you want to go and listen again (or for the first time) to the albums or songs being discussed (if only to make sure you do disagree with me as much as you think you do), then this book has achieved its aim. Now, make yourself comfortable and let’s travel back to 1956 where a teenaged Bobby Darin is waiting to tell us the story of the Rock Island Line…
Quite a lot of time has been spent on this blog celebrating the best of Bobby Darin – his great achievements, his best performances, his most enduring recordings. But, today, I’m in a rather flippant (not to mention outspoken) mood, and so I thought it would be good to take a trip through the not-so-wonderful aspects of Bobby’s legacy. I shall brace myself for the furious comments as I am sure to upset someone! Who, me? Never!
In no particular order…
What’s New Pussycat (1966)
In 1966, Bobby thought it would be a great idea to record all the songs on the shortlist for the Best Original Song Oscar that year. In any other year, this might have been fun – but Bobby managed to do it when, to paraphrase Frank Sinatra, it was not a very good year. This means that we were treated to the delights of The Ballad of Cat Ballou and What’s New Pussycat. If any song was not suitable for Bobby it was What’s New Pussycat. Woe, woe, woe, woe indeed!!!
Melodie (1970)
Here we have Melodie, ironically a song without a decent melody. This was the A-side of Bobby’s first single for Motown. It is an awful, awful record. To be fair, it wasn’t all Bobby’s fault. The song itself is pretty grim, and it’s in an arrangement that is in a too-high key. What perhaps is most jaw-dropping is that this fiasco took five visits to the studio to complete! The B-side, Someday We’ll Be Together is nearly as bad. The chorus wails “sing it, Bobby” in the background, and Bobby is heard to mutter “sorry” as the song fades out (no, I’m not joking!)
Be Mad, Little Girl (1963)
In the final episode of his 1973 TV series, Bobby jokes about how he had the chance to record Younger Girl some seven years earlier, but that they would have thrown his ass in jail had he sung about a younger girl (his words, not mine!). But that didn’t stop him recording Be Mad, Little Girl in 1963 – a song about an older man getting upset at the law because he couldn’t have an affair with someone underage. If you think that was a mistake, the record has a chorus singing “you chicken, you chicken” throughout.
There’s a Hole in My Bucket and other awful duets (1973)
Thankfully, There’s a Hole in My Bucket didn’t make it to record, but Bobby decided that it was a perfect duet for him and Carol Lawrence in The Bobby Darin Show in 1973. Bobby had child-star Charlene Wong as a semi-regular guest for a few weeks on the show, and it would have been fine as a cute song with her. But with Carol Lawrence, and going out at 10pm at night? Really?
Some of the other duets in the series aren’t much better – not least the nose-to-nose love duets with his female guests, in which they both sit on stools and move closer and closer as the song progresses until the lights fade when, presumably, we are meant to believe they are about to…get friendly. While Bobby clearly had a rapport with Nancy Sinatra, Bobbie Gentry, and Petula Clark, some of the others are utterly embarrassing. The worst, not to say the saddest of the “serious” duets on the show isn’t a nose-to-nose effort at all, but the medley of songs from Love Swings with Peggy Lee. It should have been magic, but both performers are less than inspired, and the wishy-washy, seemingly unrehearsed sound from the house band turns this into a nightmare before either Darin or Lee have opened their mouths.
Meanwhile, the Hole In My Bucket sequence starts at 6.53 in the following video…
The Milk Shows (1963/2014)
Am I really including an entire 2CD set, you ask? Damn right, I am. This was a radio series broadcast for five minutes a day in 1963 – which was plenty long enough considering that Bobby is hardly at his best. But that’s not the reason why it’s included here. The reason for the inclusion is the editing of the CD set itself. An attempt is made (I use the word “attempt” loosely) to link all of the songs together to make two eighty-minute discs. The problem is that it was seemingly done by a nine-year-old just learning to use Goldwave. It is done so badly that there are moments when Bobby is thanking the non-existing audience for applauding AND introducing the next song at the same time. Bobby had many talents, but nobody knew that speaking in tongues was one of them until this delight was released. A monumental cock-up.
The Bobby Darin Show DVD (1973/2014)
While we’re on the subject of monumental cock-ups, let’s discuss the DVD release of The Bobby Darin Show TV series from 1973. Now, the series wasn’t exactly the high point in Bobby’s career, but fans were still delighted when they were informed that the complete series was coming to DVD. Except it didn’t turn out to be the complete series, because the producers decided to cut multiple musical numbers due to copyright charges – and, of course, the numbers they cut were often the ones that we have no other performance of. In short, the DVD set is a complete travesty, with one episode running just 25 minutes (it should be nearer fifty) – but hey, why complain when they managed to leave in the sequences of Bobby playing chess?!
The Greatest Builder (1956)
When Bobby got his first recording contract at Decca in 1956, he spent his time trying to find out what kind of singer he was. He tried rock ‘n’ roll, faux folk, Guy Mitchell-style novelty records, and even this very hard to stomach, over-the-top semi-religious twaddle. The style of song was quite popular in the UK at this time, but it had nothing to do with the US charts of 1956. What’s more, it’s a song that requires a rather more beefy voice than Bobby had at this time, and he battles against the orchestra, trying to make us believe that he believes in the wonders of the “Greatest Builder.” Twelve years later, Bobby was back in the studio singing Sunday – not the jazz classic, but an attack on organised religion, accusing it of bloodshed. What a difference twelve years makes.
Release Me – and all the other Capitol songs with a choir (1962-1965)
There is nothing worse than having a great performance ruined by an element of the arrangement, and during Bobby’s Capitol years we come acvross this issue repeatedly due to the use of a chorus in many of the ballads on the albums. I highlight Release Me because the choir almost completely takes over here (and it’s not Bobby’s best moment, either), but the saccharine choir pops up all over the Oh Look at Me Now and You’re the Reason I’m Living LPs (and elsewhere). They are enough to drive anyone to distraction, and continually ruin some otherwise-wonderful performances.
It’s You Or No-one album (1960)
Oh yes, we’re getting towards controversy for this one. This was an album that Bobby planned, with a swinging side that virtually dispensed with the brass section – and a ballad side that dispensed with percussion. It was all very esoteric and left-field, and ATCO left it in the vault for three years, and who can blame them? The problem here is that when heard individually, the songs sound great, but in the order of the album they are very much sleep-inducing. This was one occasion when ambition got the better of Bobby and he tried something that really didn’t work.
And so we come to the final spot. But I think here that all Bobby fans will be united….
The state of Bobby’s legacy in 2020
If there is one thing worse than anything else Bobby-related, then it’s the state of his legacy as we enter a new decade.
I don’t know of a single major star who is represented worse on the internet. There is no Bobby Darin Vevo channel on YouTube, for example. Whereas we see the Sammy Davis estate (for example) posting videos of rare performances online very regularly, with Bobby we get nothing. Or, perhaps, worse than nothing – we get the occasional fuzzy-quality video in the aspect ratio of a mobile phone (I’m not joking). The official YouTube channel that does exist has ten videos and hasn’t been updated in three years. This is the age of the internet, folks! The official website hasn’t changed its design since I first looked at it in 1999, and is rarely updated – and I don’t blame the people that run the site for that – they should be given the resources to make it into what it should be. Meanwhile, the twitter account in Bobby’s name is hardly jaw-dropping.
Perhaps even worse is that there is so much unreleased material that is sitting there in the vaults or archives unheard, unseen, and, even worse, unloved. Five years ago, fans were promised a release of the studio recordings Manhattan in my Heart and Weeping Willow. We’re still waiting. There are demo discs known to exist. There are recordings made for radio that still exist. There is a live recording made at the Hollywood Bowl. There are studio and live recordings from the ATCO years that have never been released. And there is an entire concert from the Copa in 1966 that still exists in an archive. We also know that more recordings exist from The Troubadour in 1969, and also from the Desert Inn in 1971. The entire Bobby Darin Amusement Company TV series from 1972 has never been made available. The Burlesque is Alive and Living in Beautiful Downtown Burbank TV special, never shown anywhere except Australia, exists and has never been released – the rights owners are even offering to licence it on their YouTube channel. Will any of these ever be released? Never say never – we never thought we’d get an album of unreleased Motown songs, but along came one a couple of years ago. But the Darin legacy is currently in a mess and utterly uncared for. It drastically needs an overhaul, an injection of enthusiasm and, frankly, someone to come along who gives a damn. And that, dear friends, is something far worse than any of the performances I have gently poked fun at during the rest of this article…
The following is an extract from the book Bobby Darin: Directions. A Listener’s Guide, available in paperback from all Amazon sites.
Bobby Darin’s final session of 1961, and of his ATCO contract, was for a more personal project, an album paying tribute to his idol Ray Charles. According to the liner notes by Leonard Feather, Darin described the album as “one of the biggest kicks of my life.”[1]
The album barely entered the charts, reaching just #96 in the US, and yet it was one of the most critically acclaimed LPs of Darin’s career. TV Radio Mirror said that “Bobby is certainly to be commended on his flexibility. […] I have no doubt it’ll sell like hot cakes – it’s an enjoyable tribute from one growing legend to another growing legend!”[2] The author of the review does finds it “strange,” however, that Darin uses virtually the same arrangements as Charles himself, and this is certainly a legitimate concern with the album. Billboard declared the album a “tour de force” and that Bobby was showing off “his remarkable versatility” on the album.[3]Life magazine said that the album was “surprisingly successful,”[4]and Variety declared:
The combination of Bobby Darin’s potent vocal style and Ray Charles’ moving songs add up to a powerhouse platter product. Instead of making an outright carbon of Charles’ vocal techniques, Darin has wisely developed his own interpretive impressions that add much to the Charles creations.[5]
Cash Boxagreed, saying that the “chanter does not attempt to imitate or emulate Charles’ potent folk-jazz style but offers a melodic musical tribute to Ray’s forceful approach.”[6] It is interesting how the Cash Boxand Variety reviews seem to be at odds with that from TV Radio Mirror, but the points they are making are somewhat different. Cash Box and Variety are praising Darin for not copying Charles’s vocal style, whereas TV Radio Mirror is criticising him for keeping the same arrangements.
The poor chart showing for the album is somewhat at odds with an article that appeared in Cash Boxconcerning advance sales:
[ATCO] last week reported advance sales at 100,000, a reception that shapes up as Darin’s strongest LP stint to date, according to Len Sachs, the label’s director of album sales and merchandising. Joe Beiderman of Universal Distributors, notified the label that the firm had already sold out of its entire allocation of the LP prior to receiving the merchandise. Dumont Distribution in Boston re-ordered an additional 5,000 copies of the packages based on orders solicited in its territory before getting its initial allocation.[7]
The album opens with a lengthy rendition of What’d I Say. It soon becomes clear that the critic who commented that the arrangements were very similar to the originals was correct. However, Darin brings something new and exciting to these songs. The whole album is one of Bobby’s most exciting, and What’d I Say starts it off in great fashion. The number was split into the two sides of a single and also received good reviews, with Billboard writing that “Darin is in sock, showmanly vocal form on this exciting Ray Charles tune.”[8]Cash Boxenthused that “it’s a fabulous 2-part revival of the Ray Charles classic that Bobby and the Jimmy Haskell ork-chorus belt out in ultra-commercial fashion.”[9] In the UK, the song was squeezed onto one side of the single, and was backed with Ain’t that Love. The song saw Bobby nominated for the Best Rhythm ‘n’ Blues Recording Grammy at the 5th annual ceremony – only for him to lose out on the award, which went to…yes, Ray Charles.
The second track of the album is the most ambitious. Darin had already recorded I Got a Woman at the jazz combo sessions nearly two years earlier and also for the Darin at the Copaalbum. Here he tackles it again – for a whole six and a half minutes. The song starts off in normal fashion, but then Bobby keeps the “alright” ending of the song going for in excess of three minutes despite it being basically the same line repeated over and over again. This is Darin at his most self-indulgent, and yet there is still a point to it, for he finds almost every possible variation of singing that line during this extended coda which listeners are going to love or tire of quickly and simply hit the “next” button on the remote control. This is miles away from the more polished vocals of, say, Love Swings. During the main section, he reaches for notes and misses them, but it doesn’t matter – Darin is showing us that this music is all about “feel” and not about technical perfection, and he hits that message home time and again during the course of the album.
I Got a Woman might have been an epic, but Tell all the World About You, which follows, clocks in at under two minutes. There is some great interplay between Darin and vocal group The Blossoms here which elevates this otherwise straightforward rendering of the song.
Tell Me How Do You Feel opens with a funky organ introduction before Darin and The Blossoms again trade phrases in this blues number. The change of instrumentation helps to add variety to the album, and the saxophone solo (by Nino Tempo or Pas Johnson) is stunning. Bobby finishes the song with a couple of choruses of the “alright” ending that was heard in the second half of I Got a Woman.
My Bonnie, which ends the first side of the LP, continues the same high quality of singing and arranging, but suffers a little in that it is also more of the same of what has come before. The second side of the album contains two slower numbers, and perhaps moving one of these to the first side would have provided more variety to the track listing. What is noticeable here, though, is that, just as with the Christmas album, Darin is more than willing to give some of the spotlight to the backing singers (in this case The Blossoms) and/or the musicians in the band.
The second half of the album opens with one of the highlights. The Right Time begins with a soulful saxophone solo, and is also one of the few Darin studio recordings to be a genuine duet, with the lead being sung by Darlene Love for two whole verses. Once again, the arrangement is very similar to Charles’s own, and yet Darin’s vocal line is actually rather different thanks to subtle changes to phrasing.
Hallelujah I Love Her So, one of the more familiar songs here to those who are not Charles fans, is given a straightforward rendition. It would be wrong to suggest that this means it was merely album filler, but there are no risks taken here with the arrangement or the vocal delivery.
Leave My Woman Alone has a jazzier feel than some of the other numbers, thanks to the tight harmonies in the brass section. There is also a gospel tinge to the track. However, Darin sings this at the lower end of his vocal range, meaning it doesn’t have as much of an intensity as some of the songs here. He also repeats the last line over and over for nearly a minute before launching into a final chorus. This device worked well with I Got a Woman, but this is the second time it had been repeated on the same album, and little is gained from it here.
Ain’t that Love carries on the same feel as the previous couple of numbers. It is easy to forget just how well the album is recorded and mixed. Darin is undoubtedly the star here, but The Blossoms are as far forward in the mix as he is, almost making each and every track a duet.
The penultimate track, Drown in My Own Tears, is probably the best on the album. A slow blues, it provides contrast with much of what has come before. The arrangement is again first class, and Darin’s vocal uses the “pleading” quality that sometimes was overdone, but is perfectly judged on this occasion. In the late 1960s, Darin performed the song on a television special, slowing the tempo still further and turning the number into an epic of around seven minutes.
In many ways, Drown in My Own Tears, is the climax of the album as there is a feeling that That’s Enough acts more like a kind of theme song, just as That’s All did for his sophomore album. Again, it is well sung, but seems more like a coda than the real finale of the record.
Also recorded at these sessions was the studio version of Multiplication, which cinema audiences had heard a number of months earlier in the film Come September. It seems bizarre that this catchy rock ‘n’ roll number wasn’t recorded in advance and released at the time of the film, as it had “hit” written all over it. The studio version is certainly much better than the one in the film, which seems hesitant, bland, and, frankly, unfinished in comparison. Ultimately, this number, one of Darin’s finest original rock ‘n’ roll songs, ended up as the flip-side to Irresistible Youin the USA, although it was a big hit in the UK (and made the top 40 again when covered by Showaddywaddy in 1981).
[1] Leonard Feather, liner notes to Bobby Darin sings Ray Charles, Bobby Darin, ATCO 33-140, LP, 1962.
[2] “Your Monthly On Record Guide,” TV Radio Mirror, July 1962, 20.
[3] “Spotlight Albums of the Week,” Billboard, March 31, 1962, 26.
This is the start of an occasional series on the This is Bobby Darin blog, in which we take a close look at overlooked songs in Bobby Darin catalogue. We start with “When I Get Home,” recorded during his final session for Capitol records.
*
When I Get Home is a fine contemporary pop song that deserved to give Darin his first hit in a couple of years. There are influences here of the British Invasion, but it isn’t a straight copy of that sound either. There are segments where Bobby’s voice is double-tracked, and the song is propelled along by pounding drums and an edgy vocal. However, it didn’t even enter the charts. In the UK, a version by The Searchers reached #35, suggesting that Bobby’s songwriting was becoming relevant once more, even if it wasn’t top ten material.
Part of the reason for Bobby’s lack of success with the song might have been his own name. He had spent much of his time at Capitol divorcing himself from contemporary sounding material, even when he had been releasing it as singles (and writing it for other artists), in that he didn’t perform it on TV to promote it. Just the previous year, he had told Dick Clark on American Bandstand that he was now firmly back within the swing genre and was going to stay there. A few months later that had changed, and he had a new single out that was a fine contemporary sounding track, and nobody wanted to know – including critics and reviewers, who largely ignored the release, and those who didn’t seemed even more perplexed than usual by the pairing of a contemporary sounding side such as this with the swing of Lonely Road. Cash Box called it a “rhythmic, bluesy dual-track ode,”[1] and Variety referred to it as a “toe-tapping rhythm number.”[2]
Neither publication could bring themselves to call it a highly commercial piece of contemporary pop music (which it was), and one has to wonder how much of that had to do with Darin’s image at the time which was far from either commercial or contemporary. No-one could or should criticise Bobby’s switch from genre to genre, but, at the same time, there must have been some head-scratching at the time when it came to working out who exactly he was and which part of him should be taken seriously. Three months earlier, he had been crooning Venice Blue and now he was taking on the British Invasion at their own game.
In the end, the title of When I Get Home was prophetic. It was his last recording for Capitol, and his next move would be to go back “home” to Atlantic records, of whom ATCO had been a subsidiary.
At the beginning of 1960, Bobby Darin had recorded two albums and four single sides, and had a residency at the Club Casanova in Miami Beach – and all before February 5th! Meanwhile, Cash Box told its readers in January of a rather bizarre-sounding radio programme:
Bill Spitalsky, indy promo man was instrumental in creating a new show for airing over WNTA-Newark. Hosted by Roy Freezer, the station’s librarian, the show spotlights Johnny Mathis and Bobby Darin, plus a different guest each week. It is titled (obviously) Freezer, Mathis, Darin and Guest.[1]
While in Pittsburgh in early January, Bobby gave an interview to local columnist George E. Pitts. In it, he takes time to praise his friend Sammy Davis Jr. “Sammy is the guy who used his influence to get me booked into some of the bigger clubs,” he says.[2] “I also can say that I was definitely influenced by him. While I don’t try to copy his style, I figure he’s the guy who taught me to do things I wouldn’t ordinarily do.” He also paid tribute to Ray Charles, saying that “he has more soul than anyone in the business. [He] is great because there is at least one outstanding quality, something that sticks with you from every record he makes.” Finally, there is another indication that Bobby was becoming interested in politics and political causes, stating that “I won’t play before segregated audiences. It just doesn’t strike me as being right.”
However, there were times when the hectic schedule took its toll. Darin had withdrawn from the Playboy Jazz Festival the year before, and in February, he withdrew from a rock ‘n’ roll package tour of Australia organised by Lee Gordon. According to Cash Box, it resulted in the entire series of shows being cancelled.[3] Neil Sedaka, The Diamonds, and Bill Haley and the Comets were also due to appear. There were also plans for Bobby to have presented an awards ceremony for the Australian recording industry while he was there.
Bobby was back performing before the end of the month – and in what might have been his most unusual concerts. Dave Dushoff had hired Darin the previous year to perform at his newly-built Latin Casino in Cheltenham, Philadelphia. The problem was that, by the time of the proposed shows, the Casino still wasn’t finished due to a steel strike. So, Dushoff persuaded Darin to perform in his house instead, in front of his fifteen-year-old daughter and one hundred of her classmates. Bobby then did the same thing in two other homes, and for his services got the full salary he would have got at the Casino.[4]
His next venture was to perform in the UK as part of a rock ‘n’ roll package tour. Darin’s arrival in Great Britain was much anticipated. “The fans are rarin’ for Darin,” wrote Melody Maker on February 13, before noting that “five weeks have still to go before the American big-beat package headed by Bobby Darin hits Britain.”[5] The package of Darin with Clyde McPhatter and Duane Eddywas described as the “biggest capture since Bill Haley.”[6] But the frenzy didn’t stop there. The Daily Mirror ran a competition to win a “Date with Darin!” in which a lucky reader (plus friend) would have tea with Bobby before watching him perform live at the London Palladium on April 10.[7] On April 16, the newspaper printed a picture of the winners, Sandra Simpson and Valerie Hutchings, both eighteen and shorthand typists, kissing Bobby following his performance at the Palladium.[8]
Not all the newspapers in the UK were treating Bobby’s tour in quite such a frivolous fashion. The Daily Express carried an interview with a headline stating “They Call Him the Next Sinatra.” It was as original an article as the headline suggests, with the interview carried out in a car as Darin was driven around London. Still, he managed to deliver some zingers: “I’ve been called an angry young man. Guess I got angry with some guy once.”[9] However, the article also gives an indication that Bobby’s time in Britain was not going as smoothly as one hoped. “That cockahoop confidence, that knack of giving the lyric a special twist that Sinatra has – they were both there,” wrote Robin Douglas-Home. “But not the vocal control, the sheer musicianship, the bittersweet tones.”[10]Variety reviewed one of the Glasgow performances, and noted that too many stars were featured in a single evening when “Darin himself, alone, would have been useful enough a marquee name for the kids.”[11] Bobby’s songs included Splish Splash, Dream Lover, Clementine, Beyond the Sea, and Mack the Knife.
Bobby had not ingratiated himself to the British audiences. David Evanier writes that “he became embroiled in controversy on opening night in Lewisham when he segued from his rock hits to a quiet rendition of My Funny Valentine. The rock audience jeered him, and he baited them, saying ‘I thought you people lived on the other side of town.’”[12] The news of the opening night also reached America, with Billboard writing that “Darin had a rough passage for his first house but adapted his act, bringing his hits in earlier, for later shows to win high audience acclaim.”[13] A few days into the tour, Bobby gave an interview to Melody Maker, saying that “I have found the British audiences the noisiest I have played to anywhere in the world – though they are the most demonstrative if they like you. That barracking at Lewisham on my first show was the most shattering thing that has happened to me as a performer. […] When I come back to Britain next time I will insist on a concert tour for adult audiences – or I won’t be back.”[14]
Bobby’s relationship with Britain didn’t fully recover during the tour. When he appeared as a guest on the popular television programme Sunday Night at the London Palladium, Clifford Davis wrote in the Daily Mirror: “Between ourselves I don’t go for this Mr. Darin. He has some of Johnnie Ray’s qualities, but not enough. In terms of an act for television, young Mr. D. is a dead loss.”[15] To be fair to the writer of that article, Bobby does seem a little reigned-in compared to some other TV guest spots of the same period, but his performance was hardly a “dead loss” and was yet another demonstration of how he could captivate an audience.
Perhaps the most significant element of Darin’s time in the UK was This is Bobby Darin, Bobby’s first one-hour TV special, with guests including Duane Eddy, Clyde McPhatter and Dorothy Squires. For this show, Darin made no concessions within his own solo numbers to the rock ‘n’ roll audience, mining his two albums of standards for his songs. However, he wasn’t in the best of form in some sections, most notably during a surprisingly lacklustre (and sometimes off-key) rendition of The Gal that Got Away which, presumably, betrayed signs of wear and tear to his voice after a tiring series of concerts.[16] The musical highlight was I’m Just a Country Boy, a quiet folk song sung by Darin accompanied by Duane Eddy on guitar. It’s a charming and sincere performance that looks forward to some of his later folk recordings. The duet with Clyde McPhatter, where Darin plays piano, is also worthy of note.
Despite the various musical highlights, however, what becomes most noticeable is that Darin wasn’t quite as comfortable as the host of a show such as this as he perhaps should have been. For a man who excelled so much in front of a live audience, it appears that he never quite managed to translate this to his own television appearances when he had hosting as well singing duties. This isn’t the case just for this special, but for those that followed in the following years as well. As a guest on someone else’s show, Darin blossomed and, more often than not, stole the show, but not very often when he was fronting his own. This continued right through to his own, often lacklustre, TV series during the last year of his life. There were exceptions, such as the Sounds of the Sixtiesspecial aired in 1969, and, most notably, his BBC TV special aired in 1967, but that was simply the filming of his live act on stage in London. It was just Bobby on stage, doing what he did so well, without having to worry about the television element or, to be more exact, connecting with the people at home as well as the people on the stage. A similar show was filmed in Australia the following year, entitled Bobby Darin at the Silver Spade¸ but this, alas, appears to be lost. This is a shame as newspaper reports suggest that the programme was a filming of Darin working in a night club and, again, should have shown him at his very best.
That said, it appears that Bobby might temporarily have lost his on-stage magic at the time of the British tour and television shows – although he is very good during the aforementioned Sunday Night at the London Palladiumperformance. On his return to America, he opened at The Cloister and, even there, the reviews were less than stellar. “Whether it was the bombastic beforehand publicity that mushroomed to heights of outer space on Bobby Darin’s return to the Cloister, or just an off-night, the 23-year-old’s opener Thursday wasn’t as spectacular as expected,” wrote Variety. “The weakness of his act,” they go on, “lies in repetitious delivery. It’s here that he loses his impact on the payees. Darin’s entire repertoire is vocalled around terrific Dick Wess arrangements. But what do you do after Mack the Knife?”[17]
[1] “Platter Spinner Patter,” Cash Box, January 30, 1960, 28.
[2] George E. Pitts , “Bobby Darin Gives Credit to Sammy Davis Jr.,” Pittsburgh Courier, January 9, 1960, 22.
[13] “London Bow Big for Darin, Eddy, McPhatter,” Billboard, March 28, 1960, 12.
[14] “Darin Slams Back at British Rock Fans,” Melody Maker, April 2, 1960, 1 & 20.
[15] Clifford Davis, “It’s a Fight Not Worth Winning,” Daily Mirror, April 11, 1960, 26.
[16] Darin misses a number of the “big” notes during the song, but had also missed the high note at the end of Some of these Days on the Sunday Night at the London Palladium appearance as well. It could simply be that after months of near non-stop work, he and his vocal chords needed a rest.
This is Bobby Darin 